


These Woods Knew Him

by paperyowl



Series: Do muses dream of phantom sheep? (Plot Bunnies) [1]
Category: Merlin (TV), Merlin - Fandom
Genre: Alternate Universe, Druid Rites, I'd apologize but really what's the point, M/M, Porn With Very Little Plot, Smut, That I made up - no offence intended, abusing the tags shamelessly, camelot AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-13
Updated: 2020-12-13
Packaged: 2021-03-10 21:14:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,954
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28053744
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/paperyowl/pseuds/paperyowl
Summary: Mordred celebrates Yuletide in his own eclectic-druid way. Merlin joins him and smut ensues.
Relationships: Merlin/Mordred (Merlin), Merlin/Mordred/Arthur Pendragon (Merlin)
Series: Do muses dream of phantom sheep? (Plot Bunnies) [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2054961
Kudos: 32





	These Woods Knew Him

Mordred wasn’t quite sure what woke him up. The room was quiet and warm, his companions fast asleep. It was not even quite dawn yet.

The embers in the fireplace seemed almost like a living, breathing thing. They cast a flickering low light into the king's chambers. There was the shuffle of someone shifting on the bed next to Mordred. Reaching for him, before settling again.

His head still felt cotton-hazy, but he couldn't quite regret any of the wine from the night before. It had been past time for celebration. For victory. He dragged his mental fingers through the memories of the last month. 

The winter had been long and dark. War was always cruel, but it had seemed worse for how long it dragged on this time. Home had been a balm to his frayed nerves. ( _Home_. How odd that he'd come to call Camelot that.)

Mordred was caught in his thoughts, still holding onto the sticky threats of sleep.

He counted the days and - oh. He hadn’t taken note of it before. They’d been battle-worn when they stumbled into the castle the night before. The celebrations bright and wonderful - their king’s victory a blessing from the gods.

Mordred had almost forgotten. He'd almost missed the Yuletide.

For a moment he let himself sink into the bed. Mordred enjoyed the comfort of the warmth next to him for another breath - then he slid away to get dressed. He had always been light on his feet.

There was a part of him that ached with negligence. It was almost like a living thing in his mind that scolded him for ignoring it for long months. He wondered how he had ever managed to complete any rituals before. When magic had been banned.

*

  
He was almost across the city limits when he heard the voice softly call out to him.

_Mordred?_

It sounded sleepy and felt like a caress to his mind. Mordred felt unbearable fond. Mordred took stopped a moment to cast a useless look back into the castle that was almost invisible from where he stood in the darkness. 

_I’ll be back before midday. Go back to sleep._

He felt something like worry in Merlin’s mind where it was pressed against his. The feeling was soothed only by the warmth in Mordred’s response. He opened up another layer of his mind to Merlin with practiced ease. After a moment understanding colored the other’s mind.

For a few minutes, there was just the comfort of Merlin’s presence at the back of his mind. Mordred made his way through the fingers of the woods which reached towards Camelot on the Eastern side. He thought about casting some small magic for some light, but there was no need.

He knew these woods and the woods knew him. The trees would make sure that he did not fall - and Mordred yearned for the darkness of the woods, the trees and the creatures in it. For the magic that drummed brighter away from prying eyes. And he let Merlin see, felt his easy acceptance that Mordred had been a druid for too long and to forgo the rituals completely.

_Do you want some company?_

Mordred had just reached a clearing that was perfect for what he had in mind. A near-perfect circle of trees, a soft dip of the ground. The rushing of water nearby. He didn’t answer Merlin in words but rather gave explicit permission to join without any expectation of Merlin doing so. It was different for them, no two magic souls quite the same. Maybe, Merlin could feel the spirits with every breath he took, his power sharper and stronger than Mordred’s could ever be. Mordred didn’t mind. Merlin slipped away a lingering breath. 

The bed had been warm and soft; the ground was rather damp when Mordred knelt in the natural center of the trees. He yearned for this but knew that he would love slipping back under the covers later. But he had learned that it wasn't a question of either or. 

For now, though, he could taste the magic in the air. He breathed, reaching for his own magic and the energy of the earth below him (the soil, the roots deep in the ground). It was easy to follow the bark of strong trees all the way to their crowns, where the wind caught (singing softly and calmingly). The stream he could hear nearby (promising live, holding such destruction). He left fire to the morning sun that had not risen yet and closed his eyes.

A smile came to his lips unbidden. He'd chosen his elements well - the spell was cast with barely a thought. Mordred didn't need the words but he said them anyway as the ritual demanded. There was no immediate sign of it, no result of the magic he had pushed into the ground and the air. 

But that was the hard part: lingering and feeding the spell, knitting magic into the fabric of the world with painstaking care. 

Mordred didn't mind the repetitiveness of the task. He was a single druid, folding little strands of magic into the all-encompassing blanket of nature's magic all around them. He held no illusions. There was neither the idealism of his childhood nor the grim determination of his youth left to distract him. Mordred could simply weave his strands and free himself from expectation or judgment.

It had taken him a while to reach this point, but Mordred could accept that these actions were only symbolic. It didn't make them pointless or useless. It only meant that cause did not follow the condition quite so closely. 

He felt the cold seep into his bones slowly, but it felt like a necessity to bear it. Mordred could have chased it away, but his fingers weren’t numb yet and his center felt warm. His breath was warm where it escaped from his lips and enjoyed the feeling of the fresh cold air in his lungs. 

He gave this too. An offering to the gods for the days to grow longer and longer again. For the realm to become strong and steady in its protection to those that were part of it. For the king to rule long and just. 

The magic of the goddess felt kind where he ran his own power along with it. Soft and accepting and grateful. It was Mordred who should be grateful. For this and for everything. 

The dawn was like a pulse through the ground that Mordred could feel all the way to the tips of his fingers. The fourth element that completed the spell. He finished his work, untangled himself softly and slowly. 

When he opened his eyes with a shuddering breath, dawn had plunged the clearing into beautiful light Mordred gasped softly at the sight. He had barely time to recognize the second presence of magic before he was drawn back into the body behind him, cradling him in a warm embrace. 

He tipped his head back onto Merlin’s shoulder and saw his eyes glow golden. His smile was blinding. _Beautifully done_ , he told Mordred mind-to-mind, and Mordred thought that it was him who was beautiful.

It was easy to lean up and kiss him like this, to surrender to his magic folding around them, warming the ground. Liquid heat spread through Mordred's very bones.

When they broke apart, Merlin rubbed warmth into Mordred’s hands. “You need to take better care of yourself,” it was only a little scolding. Merlin understood, but he didn’t quite agree with Mordred’s view of the practice. 

There was no room in his head to argue, instead, Mordred enjoyed the warmth of him and let himself be engulfed in the other’s magic. How wonderful to feel another magic against his. How impossible for it to be Emrys. Merlin. The way his magic danced around them was almost like hands on Mordred's body, traveling warm and steady. It felt like the fourth element, the one Mordred had left to the morning sun. Or maybe it was more like the singing wind?

No matter which element Merlin drew on the most at that moment, it was intoxicating to feel this power. Mordred wasn’t sure if Merlin realized quite how much- “Oh,” Merlin breathed softly. Amused. “Do you want help with that?”

Mordred laughed breathlessly when Merlin spread a hand low on his stomach, indicating downwards. Where it was quite obvious just what the magic did to Mordred.

_Not quite suitable for a Yule ritual, is it?_

Mordred felt the amusement turn a little sharper, hungrier - but he still gasped his surprise when Merlin reached down to unlace his breeches. He slipped a hand inside with little hesitance, his fingers warm and steady in their grip.

_There is power in this. And we’re offering our power to the goddess, are we not?_

Merlin was laughing at him, Mordred was sure and he almost protested. But he arched his body against Merlin's with a barely suppressed noise when his hand twisted and started a steady rhythm. He tried to control his voice, hands fisted in the fabric over Merlin's flanks. 

He did not tease Mordred physically, but instead whispered things into his mind. What he wanted to do when they were back in the warmth of the castle. If he remembered that one time when all three of them - Mordred gave a sharp sound that echoed loudly through the space around them.

_This is more powerful than you might realize_ , Merlin told him, amused and fond.

Mordred moaned lowly, fingers scrambling for hold. He didn’t mean to project it but he must have because Merlin’s breath hitched when he thought Because it’s you. It’s only ever you and him. You can have all of me.

Merlin’s grasp shifted just so and Mordred tipped over the edge like a sudden shove over a cliff. 

*

He was still trying to catch his breath when Merlin withdrew his hand - and even if Mordred didn't see it, he knew that Merlin was licking his fingers. Mordred gave a weak shove to him that made Merlin snicker. 

They got up slowly, Merlin leaning into right Mordred's clothes at least enough to not draw any curious glances. Mordred felt both sated and worn-out, but it wasn’t quite done. He lowered his gaze and took a breath. Releasing one element after the other. 

_Earth. Air. Water. Fire._

Merlin’s gaze was heavy on him. Watching his eyes turn golden, Mordred realized. He returned the smile that the other gave him. When he took a step forward he stumbled a little, Merlin caught him by the shoulders. 

“Alright?” There was a laugh caught in his throat. Mordred flushed but stopped himself from muttering something rude. Merlin looked at him like he'd heard the unspoken insult anyway.

They made their way back with the sun rising. There was no rush in their steps, only steady steps towards their goal. 

They stripped most of their clothes in the doorway of their king’s chamber. When Merlin stepped towards the bed where Arthur was still sleeping, Mordred stopped him with a hand on his arm. Merlin turned to him and Mordred leaned toward him, feeling embarrassed of all things. 

Merlin caught his face between his palms easily, smiling when Mordred’s breath caught. This kiss was just a kiss - human and without any magic. Mordred could feel the warmth spread all the way through to his bare toes. 

When they broke apart, they found Arthur looking at them from the bed. 

“So you found our errant knight,” he said towards Merlin, voice rough with sleep. They shared a soft kiss, barely a press of lips. Merlin smiled at the gentleness. 

“Good,” Arthur added before reaching for Mordred. 


End file.
